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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364997">Odyssey</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/pseuds/InterstellarVagabond'>InterstellarVagabond</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Super Dangan Ronpa 2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Fluff, Hajime does not come back after the program, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medium Burn, Road Trips, Slow Burn, but by ADHD standards so, minimal mention with warning in the chapter notes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 11:35:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,099</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23364997</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/InterstellarVagabond/pseuds/InterstellarVagabond</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime Hinata convinced the others to make a choice, and Izuru Kamukura awakened with only pieces of Hajime remaining. Time passes, the Future Foundation killing game ends, and Izuru Kamukura decides to leave the island. Nagito Komaeda decides he doesn't get to leave alone.</p>
<p>The pair ends up on a road trip of revenge to track down the people who made Izuru what he is, but the journey might turn out to be something more than that simple goal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Kamukura Izuru/Komaeda Nagito</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>180</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Izuru spared the island one last look as he made his way down to the ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was early, mist was still gathering all about, he’d chosen this time because it was more likely the Future Foundation workers on the ship would be scarce, asleep or dozing off on the job. He could sneak aboard without exerting so much effort.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seemed, however, he would not go undetected after all. He noticed a shock of unruly white hair down at the dock, and its owner sitting peacefully on a crate. He was staring out at the sea, and he had a bag with him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s eyes narrowed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito noticed someone watching him and turned, a smile forming on his lips when he saw Izuru. “Good morning.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No? It’s not a good morning?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you can’t come with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could scream very loud and wake everyone up instead,” Nagito said, still smiling innocently. “There isn’t another ship for a month.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru frowned. How had he even known? This one was unpredictable…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, ready to go?” Nagito asked, standing and slinging his bag over his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t even know where I’m going,” Izuru said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, but I know you’re leaving, and I know I want to go with you,” Nagito said. “I can’t let you fall into despair without me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmph.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was stealthy enough, though in comparison to Izuru he was like an elephant wearing cymbals for shoes. Izuru guided him with a hand on his shoulder most of the time, until they were down in the cargo hold. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru found a secluded spot, a corner surrounded by crates, and settled in. Nagito watched as he sat with his back to the wall and closed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I keep first watch?” Nagito asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do as you please, just don’t get caught,” Izuru sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was suspiciously silent after that, so Izuru opened one eye to see what he was up to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What he was up to was pulling a book from his bag, sitting cross legged not far from Izuru and opening it up. Izuru shook his head and closed his eye again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The journey was roughly three days, during which time Izuru stole food for the both of them and they spent most of their time sleeping. Sometimes Nagito read aloud to him, which he considered needless sound when they should be quiet, but he also considered it strangely soothing so he didn’t say anything. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the boat docked, Izuru had been dozing with his head on Nagito’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Time to go?” Nagito asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If you want to be seen,” Izuru replied, arching an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What could they do? We’ve already escaped!” Nagito grinned wickedly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lock you up. Kill you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So many fun options to pick from!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are loud.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito rolled his eyes, but he quieted anyway. Izuru closed his eyes again, and for a few hours Nagito thought he had gone back to sleep, but then he stood so suddenly that he had to have been awake and alert the whole time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world was starting to heal, finding a new normal after a global crisis. The world had almost ended, and now it was the duty of those left to put it back together again. Whether or not these survivors were worthy, fitting, or capable, was unknown, but it looked as though this region was doing well enough for itself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow, home again,” Nagito marveled. “Well, not quite. I was here on a school trip once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru didn’t respond, the comment didn’t need a response. He just started walking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito hadn’t been paying attention, so he struggled to catch up after a while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The seaside town they’d docked in was already alive with activity, even so early in the morning. Izuru had already changed into something less conspicuous than the suit he’d awoken in, but Nagito was a stranger in a strange ratty coat and discolored hair. He would look too familiar as the well known Despair he used to be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Well, Izuru would look too familiar too. Long hair, red eyes, he hadn’t let himself be seen much during the tragedy, but if even one person recognized him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In here,” Izuru said, taking Nagito’s arm to drag him into a small thrift shop. He grimaced as his hair was almost stepped on again for the fifth time. Nagito gathered it up in his arms as they went inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a cluttered place, the counter was almost invisible behind racks and counters covered in clothes and secondhand dishes. The owner shouted a greeting from wherever she happened to be, and Nagito greeted her back cheerfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here, sit down a second,” he said to Izuru, guiding him over to a bench.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re here to disguise ourselves, we should be quick,” Izuru said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is part of your disguise, and will keep you from getting caught on things and shoes.” Nagito turned Izuru to face away from him and then started gathering his hair into a thick braid. It took longer than Izuru would have liked, but eventually his hair fell only to his waist.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took it in his hand, regarding it carefully. “... thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I live to serve,” Nagito said, so cheerfully that Izuru couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Find yourself some clothes,” Izuru said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have clothes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Clothes that look like what everyone else is wearing. Nothing from the island.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, no Hawaiian shirt?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. Definitely not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru looked around as Nagito found himself something less noticeable to wear. He knew he came from this world, but it still felt strange to him. When he was born, all he knew was the campus. When he was free, all he knew was despair. He had never known the world the way it had been built, with people doing business and leaving their homes for the day. He had never known shops and secondhand clothing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Speaking of, he didn’t have any money.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Be quick, we will have to steal,” he warned Nagito in a low tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Why?” Nagito asked, confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Izuru. I have money.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru gave him a curious look, and Nagito laughed. “Glad you brought me now? How were you going to get food? Were you just going to steal everything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru blushed at such a glaring error in his plan. “I would be capable of doing so, yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, but aren’t we supposed to be good guys now?” Nagito teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go pay,” Izuru huffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They left shortly, Nagito having changed into a hoodie and a hat. Izuru was sporting a pair of sunglasses, and Nagito kept shooting him strange looks out of the corner of his eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Izuru finally asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like a celebrity trying to avoid the paparazzi, not very inconspicuous,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru rolled his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As they walked Izuru noticed he wasn’t the only thing Nagito was looking at. His eyes wouldn’t stop wandering, as if he found every little detail fascinating. Izuru couldn’t see the appeal. Even if this world was new to him, it had already become predictable. He could analyze any situation, predict any outcome, and already the world was dull to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! Look!” Nagito took his arm and pointed. “They’ve already reopened schools here!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru watched the line of children entering the gates, but his eyes inevitably fell to the armed guard patting them down at the door. “Hm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably thanks to Makoto, huh?” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, I never actually got my high school diploma,” Nagito said. “My graduation ceremony was a bomb. Literally, we blew up the classroom. I wonder if they still have it filed away somewhere, I’d love to go pick it up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you need it for?” Izuru asked, once again bewildered at Nagito’s inane rambling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To put on my wall!” Nagito said simply, grinning like the answer was obvious.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru sighed wearily and kept walking. After a moment he spoke again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know, we might not be going back. If you want to, you might have to do so unassisted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I would miss everyone else, but there’s plenty of places with walls I could display my diploma on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really think you can build a life here after everything you’ve done?” Izuru arched an eyebrow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, don’t look at me. It was your other half that I hear rambled away about the future in the simulation,” Nagito chuckled. “Oh, Hajime, always so talkative. You could never get a word in edgewise with that guy, unless you shouted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You shout a lot,” Izuru remarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I have stuff to say too,” Nagito laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. A lot of it. Too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then it’s a good thing you’re such a good listener, all silent like.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru had nothing to say to that, which was infuriating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Nagito refused the silence, “where are we going?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru didn’t answer at first. His plans were… vague.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew he didn’t belong with the others, they were all healing. He didn’t heal, he simply chose a new direction to walk in and kept all other directions open for his convenience. He couldn’t have a moral shift, because none of his choices were based on morality. It was simply what suited him, and right now he was suited to be far away from those healing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He also knew he had a vendetta. There were a few researchers, doctors, and board members whose faces were burned into his memory. He wanted to kill them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After that, he had no plans.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m going to kill the people who made me, and then I’m going to find something else to do,” Izuru said. “You can go wherever you want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Alright. Who’s first?” Nagito asked with a thoughtful look.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You took that easily,” Izuru said, half impressed and half exasperated.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Murder isn’t new to any of us,” Nagito reminded him with an almost pained look. “I said I was coming with you. I have to keep you from falling into despair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Firstly, I don’t see how murder doesn’t sound like despair to you,” Izuru said, voice lowering and eyes narrowing. “Secondly, why have you made that your job, and thirdly, what makes you think I’m going to let you just follow me around?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, let’s see,” Nagito hummed thoughtfully and started counting off the points on his fingers. “Well, revenge isn’t despair all the time, sometimes it’s just anger or justice. Revenge can be hope if done right. Then, it’s my job because I want to see hope restored to the world, and someone as talented as you falling to despair would throw the world back into chaos easily. Finally, you could stop me if you wanted to. Go ahead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito stood and spread his arms wide like he was expecting a hit and ready to take it. People started to stare so Izuru growled and grabbed his hand, pulling him along to keep walking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s too boring to bother, right?” Nagito said, trailing a bit behind. “I’m just a pilot fish following in the wake of a shark, I benefit, you benefit without really knowing, and I’m much too small for you to bother with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Until I get hungry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if you must eat me, unfortunately I don’t taste very good,” Nagito sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru actually chuckled, which surprised him. He tried to cover it by clearing his throat, and filed the memory away so he could later analyze what had caused such an uncharacteristic display of emotion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Speaking of food, you need breakfast,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what I need?” Izuru asked doubtfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are your ultimate ears not working?” Nagito asked, poking at Izuru’s ear. “Your stomach’s been growling.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unimportant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm. No. Being hungry would severely hinder your talent,” Nagito said with a frown. “You need to be at your best if you’re going on a killing mission. Breakfast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was going to argue, but Nagito already had his arm and was tugging him in the direction of a restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito chatted up the waitress like she was an old friend, which seemed to make her equal parts enamored and unnerved. That seemed to be the kind of energy Nagito gave off naturally, just a little too friendly with everyone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru, on the other hand, was not friendly enough. They seemed to compensate for each other, with Nagito making Izuru the silent straight man to all his jokes and Izuru reminding Nagito of his manners or cutting him off halfway through a speech growing too long. Nagito’s charm was warm enough that the waitress no longer looked afraid of Izuru when she returned with their food, he found it interesting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito ate quickly, like he hadn’t seen food in awhile which was almost true. Izuru ate slowly, and raised an eyebrow at this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to choke,” he warned. “How are you so thin if you eat like this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t eat often, and I’m sick all the time, but I’m still hungry now,” Nagito said, covering his mouth with his hand so that he wasn’t technically talking with his mouth full. “That’s rude to ask you know, I don’t ask you how you’re so buff when I never see you work out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... permanent muscle stimulants,” Izuru replied.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know they made those.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does that mean your muscles are always growing?” Nagito asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. They compensate to keep me at the perfect level of fitness for the human body,” Izuru said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I guess you can eat whatever and however you want, huh?” Nagito grinned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It requires quite a bit of food, it takes energy to constantly be growing and shrinking at an accelerated rate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And yet you still didn’t want to stop for breakfast,” Nagito made a tsking sound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you have stopped if I wasn’t hungry?” Izuru asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito grinned at being caught and went back to silently eating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito tipped so well that Izuru began to wonder how much money he had on him, and where he was even getting it from considering the years the world had gone almost completely without currency. Then they left, continuing to walk until they reached the edge of town.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wow…” Nagito looked at the chaos before them, a road full of cars sitting where their owners had stopped them the day the tragedy stopped them in place. Some of them were crushed, most likely under the foot of a Monokuma robot. “There’s so many of them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru waded through them, finding one near the end that appeared functional. He climbed into the driver’s seat and found the keys still in the ignition.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How lucky,” Nagito said, having crawled into the passenger seat and leaning over to watch what Izuru did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru turned the car on and checked the fuel gauge. More luck, it seemed this vehicle was well equipped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blamed Nagito’s luck cycle for the subsequent bad luck, which was that the former driver had left the CD player on turned up as loud as it could go. Izuru winced and covered his ears as he was assaulted by the intense stimulus. When it stopped he had to take a few breaths to steady himself. He opened his eyes and saw Nagito looking at him with slight concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... loud,” Izuru huffed, refusing to say anymore on the matter. Surely, Nagito was disappointed to see that the ultimate human being did in fact have a weakness. For some reason the idea of seeing Nagito of all people looking at him with disappointment left him feeling unpleasant, so he kept his eyes on the road as he started to drive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito watched the world go by as they drove, and after a while he started to talk. Long rambling stories and ideas, Izuru never replied. He just listened to Nagito like he was the radio as they went along. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, they’ve noticed we’re gone by now, don’t you think?” Nagito asked. “Everyone back on the island.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Most likely.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not good. Someone might miss us, and others will think we’re up to no good and tell on us,” Nagito said. “Maybe I should have left a note.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would have ruined our escape.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mikan will miss you,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What makes you say that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You worked with her for a long time waking us all up and taking care of us,” Nagito said. “You haven’t noticed how she gets around you? She soaks up your confidence, and she smiles a lot. She looks at you with trust. Besides me, she’s probably your only friend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, don’t say something edgy and ruin it,” Nagito sighed. “I can’t be friends with you if you’re that edgy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?” Izuru asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh no, now you’re going to be edgy on purpose.” Nagito grinned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Perhaps.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a moment’s silence Izuru spoke again. “So we are… friends?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think so,” Nagito pulled his feet up into his seat and rested his chin on his knees. “Why? What did you think we were?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru ignored him, and the fluttering in his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When it got dark, Izuru wanted to pull over and sleep in the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito had, by chance, found a tourist’s map in the glove compartment, and pointed out a hotel that might have been reopened by now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By chance, it was.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru dropped his bag to the floor with a sigh. He rolled his head side to side stretching out his neck, having so much hair always resulted in sore neck muscles at the end of the day. He wondered if Nagito would give him a massage if he told him to, he “lived to serve” after all. For some reason the idea of Nagito so close to him made him feel complicated, so he left it alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry,” Nagito said, and Izuru jumped as for one moment he thought he’d read his mind. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s only one bed,” Nagito pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.” Izuru shrugged. “No. You take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I insist,” Nagito said. “I’m unimportant, it doesn’t matter where I sleep.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then sleep in the bed if it doesn’t matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t take the bed from someone as important as you!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru moved to the corner of the room and sat down with his back to the wall. “... I don’t like beds,” he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... that’s a weird thing to not like,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When it’s the only thing in a featureless cell, your home for two years, you grow bored of it,” Izuru huffed. “... confined by it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh…” Nagito crouched down to look at him. “But that doesn’t look very comfortable. Not even gonna change into pajamas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru ignored him, and closed his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru suddenly felt something thrown over him, and opened his eyes to see Nagito draping the blanket over him. He also had a pillow which he determinedly placed behind Izuru after wordlessly pushing him forward a moment to make room for it. Izuru was so surprised someone would so calmly move him like that that he allowed it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodnight,” Nagito said cheerfully.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmph.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru closed his eyes and listened as Nagito moved around the room. He tracked his movements to the bathroom, to his bag, changing into his pajamas, to the lightswitch which flicked, then to the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Nagito fell asleep, his breathing grew even and shallow. Izuru found the sound grounding, and focused on it to help him to sleep as well. He missed the rocking of the boat, it would have made his sleep even easier.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, wake up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s eyes opened to Nagito standing close to him, half crouched to meet his gaze and holding a plate piled high with food. </span>
</p>
<p><span>“Room service</span> <span>!” Nagito joked. </span></p>
<p>
  <span>They sat on the floor and ate breakfast together, splitting the same plate. Izuru assumed Nagito had gone downstairs and raided the free breakfast. Was he eager to please or just resourceful?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re almost to the academy,” Nagito said, stretching out the map as Izuru finished off the food. “It might have reopened with the other schools, so we might have to be careful. If there are any records left of the people you’re looking for, they’ll be there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm…” Izuru frowned at the idea that the records might be gone. Finding someone by face alone was not impossible but it was improbable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’ll be nice to see the place again,” Nagito said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... you don’t sound excited,” Izuru noticed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito forced a smile. “Of course I’m excited. Hope’s Peak is…” his smile faltered. “Well. It used to be my dream.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now it’s real, and it’s your past, and that makes it different,” Izuru guessed. “You associate it with becoming Ultimate Despair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito closed his eyes. “A good friend of mine died there. Our teacher died recently too. I know I see and talk about people like they’re means to an end, but… sometimes I miss them for their substance.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Chiaki…” Izuru said softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” Nagito gave him an understanding look. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stood. “Let’s get going.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not so fast,” Nagito stood and put a hand on his chest to stop him. “You should shower and change your clothes. I’m not going to be in a car with you for hours if you keep wearing the same outfit all the time and not washing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re wasting time,” Izuru huffed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, by arguing instead of just hopping to it,” Nagito pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru ended up taking a shower and changing.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was irritated by his hair being wet. It took too long to dry whether by towel, hair dryer, or air, so every shower meant a day of discomfort at least. He scratched at his head and growled, then tried to trap his hair between his head and the headrest so it wouldn’t weigh so heavily on his neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, the ultimate human being doesn’t have the ultimate scalp?” Nagito giggled, noticing Izuru’s discomfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru glared at him. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Arriving at Hope’s Peak set Izuru as close to uneasy as he could get. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This area was more heavily populated by the Future Foundation, and the reason was obvious the closer they got to the school.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He did reopen it!” Nagito said excitedly, clasping his hands together with delight. He ran for the front gates before Izuru could think to grab his shoulder. Izuru could have easily caught up, but at this point he hardly cared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t want to come back here,” Izuru said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It still has some bad memories but… it’s still my school. It’s still where so many talented people made their mark,” Nagito said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your obsession with talent is… distasteful,” Izuru said. “My handlers used to tell me that those without talent leeched off those who do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I completely agree,” Nagito said. “But that’s how it’s supposed to be, right? Some people were born to never be great, and some people were born to be great enough to carry the world on their shoulders.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you’re both wrong,” Izuru said. “People are all different. Some of them learn, some of them are born better, some of them become worse, there are too many variables to label the world as talented and talentless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Bold words from someone like you,” Nagito pointed out slyly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t think so.” Izuru shrugged. “I’m not a person. I don’t count.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re… not a person, huh?” Nagito considered this. “Fair enough.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s get what we came for,” Izuru said, pushing past him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito had been to the headmaster’s office enough times to know where the adjacent file room was, so he led Izuru there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The school was mostly empty, though they sometimes heard voices or footsteps that sent them ducking into empty classrooms to hide. When they finally got to the file room, Izuru locked the door behind them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This might be difficult,” Nagito said, eyeing up the chaotic room. Most of the file cabinets had toppled over, there were scattered papers and folders all over the floor, and some of the drawers simply hung open and empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru said nothing, and moved to the closest cabinet to start working.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito had no idea what the people Izuru was looking for looked like, so he just sat nearby, sometimes peeking out the frosted glass window in the door or fidgeting with whatever was in arms reach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was focused entirely on his task, setting aside the papers he needed. The pile was a lot smaller than he would have liked. A lot of files were missing, and he doubted the digital database was still functional. Junko would have torn the network to the ground and rebuilt it for her own purposes, he needed to find what he was looking for here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Any luck?” Nagito asked, and Izuru winced at his choice of words.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Four,” he said, holding up the four employee files. He pointed to them one by one. “Doctor, doctor, steering committee member, handler.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s all you could find, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Think it’s enough for your roadtrip of revenge?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please, don’t call it that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there were more footsteps from the hall, and they both heard a familiar voice just outside the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It is worrying, but I don’t think they’re up to anything, not after they saved us,” Makoto said, Izuru could make out his silhouette and guessed that he’d stepped out of another room to take a phone call. “I know he’s dangerous, but we have to give him a chan- yeah, I know… I'll keep an eye out, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru saw Nagito reach for the doorknob, and grabbed him. He put his hand over Nagito’s mouth and kept him restrained. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to get back to the meeting, but I’ll call you after?” Makoto said. “... yeah. Alright. Talk to you later.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru waited until he heard the footsteps mingle with the sound of a closing door, then he let Nagito go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Makoto could probably help us,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he would turn us in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s a good person, he would understand,” Nagito insisted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t know him, you only know his story.” Izuru folded his arms over his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His story, is him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“People are not the stories told about them,” Izuru insisted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito shook his head. “He is. I’ve seen the hope he can bring, he defeated Junko Enoshima, I trust him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I don’t.” Izuru grabbed the doorknob. “If you want to talk to him, go ahead. You’ll be out of my hair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stepped out into the hallway, Nagito following close behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if he needs help here?” Nagito asked. “Help rebuilding the school? It could be a good place again, it could make up for all the bad that happened here. Who better to help him with that then a recovered Remnant of Despair?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was far gone, Izuru could see it in his eyes, his mind was far off in a fantasy of the future where he and Makoto brought hope to the world. Izuru made an irritated sound</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then stay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito looked like he was considering it, then he got distracted, gasping and ducking into a classroom. Izuru watched impatiently as Nagito looked around excitedly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My classroom,” he said happily, before turning back to Izuru. “Makoto has done an amazing job repairing this place, think of all the other ultimates that will sit in these desks and bring good to the world!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru glared, and then kept walking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t hear Nagito’s footsteps behind him, so he assumed that was that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Leaving without Nagito at his side felt strange, they hadn’t been apart in days. Izuru was used to his presence, to his constant chatter. It felt strangely empty as he headed back to the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat in the driver’s seat and paused to go over the files. There wasn’t much chance they’d still be at the home addresses listed, but he had names to go with the faces and that was enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had no reason to look at these files again, he was stalling, and he didn’t know why. He should hurry and leave. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat there for another five minutes, pretending to reread the information on the files, and at minute six he heard the passenger side door open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito slid into the seat, face unreadable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru folded up the files and tucked them into the glove compartment. The two sat in silence for a moment before Nagito spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, aren’t you going to drive?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you were staying.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you, I have to keep you from falling into despair,” Nagito said with a shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru sighed heavily, and then started the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, tell me about this guy,” Nagito said, tapping the file Izuru currently had sitting in front of him on the table. They were tucked into a booth of a rundown little restaurant clearly just getting back on its feet. There were several such non-essential businesses that were fighting for normalcy back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru looked down at the file and paused to sip his drink before speaking. “Sergei Voronin, foreign doctor. Fifty-seven years old, unmarried, no children-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I mean,” Nagito leaned a ways across the table. “What did he do to you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru closed his eyes, remembering a place where he and Hajime Hinata were not yet two seperate people, where they were a blended merge halfway into having a total personality wipe. Many of these memories had been returned to him along with other bits of Hajime’s memories and personality after waking up from the Neo World Program. There was a familiar face, one he saw every time he went under the knife or was rushed to the medical ward when his body started to fail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“He is like crumpled paper,” the cruel man said, looking down at him. “Does he ever stand on his own? Always collapsing under the burden of the gift we give him, oh well.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s one of the people who made me, and he belittled me,” Izuru said. “He performed unnecessary surgeries, and denied painkillers because it would muddy what they were doing to my brain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhmm…” Nagito looked sympathetic. “How will you find him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I need a phone,” Izuru said. Then he looked at Nagito uneasily. “... will you buy me one?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito grinned wickedly. “What kind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were still in the parking lot as Izuru checked several social media websites on the new phone. They were still there because Nagito was not to be trusted behind the wheel. He had been allowed to drive all of once during this trip and his luck had nearly gotten them killed, or at the very least given them need to find a new car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So instead Nagito was laying on his back in the backseat, staring up at the roof and humming quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm. Here.” Izuru passed the phone to Nagito to show him what he’d found.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh. Amazing how many people still post online, social media just seems kinda like one of those things that doesn’t make it through the apocalypse,” Nagito said. “He’s kinda far, at least he’s in the country still.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We go for him first,” Izuru said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have a system here, or are you just picking them randomly?” Nagito asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... luck,” Izuru said, referencing their shared talent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, alright then.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were driving in silence, Nagito staring idly out the window when he suddenly he gasped in surprise and slapped Izuru’s arm. Then he opened the car door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru slammed on the brakes, grateful the roads were so empty. He ended up on the side of the road, a great deal of hair in his face and a surprised and irritated expression underneath it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was already out of the car and running towards a building left in total disarray. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The building was large and had clearly once been pristinely white, though the tragedy had grayed its colors just as it had left cracks and holes in the roof and walls. Most noticeably, the building was covered in plant life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look at it!” Nagito said, spreading his arms wide. He ran up to a flowering vine and examined it with awe. “Growing in all this chaos.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was still rearranging his hair as he made his way to Nagito’s side. He gave Nagito a particularly withering glare before stepping inside the building to examine it. Nagito followed him like a duckling, wandering off only when something caught his eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru had more practical things to examine. “This was an agricultural research facility.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s why all these plants are here?” Nagito asked with a smile. “Amazing! You see? This is how hope comes from despair, this building was destroyed, the research lost, but the plants got to grow free and strong!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru eyed the bullet holes in the wall. “People died.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But their work lives on!”  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They did not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t they?” Nagito gestured to a rather lovely flower, and Izuru just shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do not enjoy the thought that I am carrying the lives of every researcher who worked on me,” he said darkly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But you’re the best example of this,” Nagito said, running to him and taking both of his hands in his. “You’re the hope that came from the despair of-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru roughly shook off his hands, he moved over to the flower Nagito had been admiring and crushed it in his hand. He opened his hand and let the petals fall to the ground, his palm stained with pollen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito sighed. “Do you feel better?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They got back into the car, a tense silence growing between them. As Izuru started to drive, Nagito pulled his legs up to his chest and went back to staring out the window. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I’m sorry.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?” Izuru glanced over to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was pretty careless of me to say,” Nagito said. “But you understand, it’s a relief to see good things come from the bad, when you normally just see the bad, and I think you’re a good thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was silent, so Nagito looked down at his feet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he felt a nudge against his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked up, and Izuru was still looking at the road but he was holding his hand out to Nagito closed in a fist. Nagito put his hands out to accept whatever he was being given, and Izuru dropped the seeds he’d taken from the facility into his hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... hope,” he said simply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito beamed at them. “Yeah.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>short chapter today sorry, I've got so many pieces of this story written already and I'm trying to tie them all together into full chapters and it is very hard with that quarantine unemployed depression asldkfj</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>This city had not quite reached the same amount of recovery as the ones they had recently been in. The majority of stores were closed and ransacked, there were hastily put together medical stations and food pantries, and wild dogs and feral cats stalked the streets once the sun set. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were no fancy hotels here, so they slept in the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or rather, Nagito slept stretched out in the back seat while Izuru sat and stared into space. Five hours passed that way, and then Izuru felt Nagito tugging at his sleeve.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not sleeping?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keeping watch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Want to go on an adventure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito sat up, squirming a bit with restless energy. “I recognize this place. Akane’s territory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you feeling nostalgic?” Izuru asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I just think I should see it.” Nagito met Izuru’s gaze, and he looked… regretful. “I was thinking about what you said and… I think I need to see the things we did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was intrigued by this change in Nagito’s behavior. He was unpredictable, but his convictions were the one thing about him that never changed. This was new, so Izuru was willing to entertain it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There wasn’t much for them to see at four am, at least by way of people, but the shadows of people trying to keep living were everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Buildings were destroyed indiscriminately: businesses, homes, hospitals… they came across an elementary school, and Nagito wandered the halls silently for an hour while Izuru trailed behind like a ghost. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One classroom still had writing up on the chalkboard, it read: have a good summer! And had a picture of a cat wearing sunglasses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito walked up to the chalkboard and stared at it for a long while.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know what’s interesting about this world?” he said, resting his fingertips against the cold blackboard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In my experience? No,” Izuru remarked, and Nagito laughed because that was almost a joke coming from Izuru. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing is permanent and nothing is strong,” Nagito said. “My friends and I destroyed the world without effort, and now our work is being erased just like all the people and things we erased.” He looked at the floor for a moment, then back up at the writing. “I think I’m understanding better what you said. I just apologized at first because I didn’t want you to be angry with me, because I admire you and I want to be useful to you,” he admitted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt a stab of anger at being lied to, which confused him. Why did he care?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But seeing this?” Nagito dragged his hand through the chalk writing, erasing and smudging it carelessly. “I get it. There were so many people here who could have made something too, and each one of them was as big as my ideals, them being gone doesn’t just add to the potential of those in despair from their loss, it also adds simply to despair.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re late to figuring that out.” Izuru perched on one of the desks and glared out the window.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m more surprised that you figured it out, Izuru Kamukura,” Nagito mused, putting his hand to his face and inadvertently dusting his skin with chalk. “Aren’t we all just bugs to you? Ants you watch in the hopes they might do a trick you haven’t seen before you squash them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t say it with any malice, more like reverence or at least respect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you jealous?” Izuru asked. “That I can be better and still care about their lives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’d never be so vain as to be jealous, I know my place,” Nagito said. “I’m just impressed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m also curious,” Nagito said, wandering over to where Izuru was perched and gently brushing aside the hair that hung down in front of Izuru’s face. “If all this sudden passion for life is really you or… someone else.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru shivered as Nagito traced his fingers just under one of his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you checked your reflection lately?” Nagito asked. “Your eye is changing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru gave him a puzzled look and left the classroom, heading for the nearest bathroom. He leaned in towards the mirror and studied his eyes and…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of them was different. Lighter. Almost sort of…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Green.” he traced his fingers under his eye curiously. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stared at the front door to the apartment building, waiting. He had a gun concealed in his waistband, and every intention to use it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Still nothing? Nagito asked from the backseat, where he had been banished for blocking Izuru's view and asking pointless questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru didn't answer, because the answer was obvious and Nagito was just talking to fill the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Maybe his profile was outdated," Nagito mused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru kept watching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Roughly an hour later a man approached the apartment, a familiar man. He'd aged, his hair was different, but the way he carried himself was etched into Izuru's mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito refrained from asking questions when Izuru got out of the car, just followed behind like a duckling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The interior of the building was worse than the outside, it was clear anyone living here didn't have anywhere else to go. Several of the doorways were simply filled with debris, others looked into empty rooms. Some of them closed as they passed, curious eyes finding themselves widening in fear as Izuru passed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru knew which apartment he was looking for, he could follow the scuff marks of his shoes, hear his specific heartbeat if he tried hard enough. There was an irony that he was using the senses this man enhanced to find him, an unimportant sort of justice in it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door was unlocked, so he went in, and he could hear Nagito pressing his back to the wall, trying to stay out of the way. He nodded in approval, and then waited. He could hear footsteps in the other room coming closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Voronin looked up from his phone when he noticed the other people in the room. His eyes zeroed in on Izuru and went wide, he gasped something in a language Nagito didn't know.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru merely pulled his gun, and with no ceremony shot Voronin in the head and ended his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The body fell to the floor with a thud, blood splattering. Izuru stood over it, his heart picking up pace only a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Voronin's face was contorted in his last cry of fear, and the blood from his wound trickled down his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... it’s done,” Izuru said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he heard Nagito run from the room. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nagito?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru came out into the hallway, where Nagito had doubled over with one hand on the wall to steady himself. He was vomiting, and trembling. Izuru went to his side and for reasons he didn’t understand reached to hold him, hold his hair, stroke his back, but instead found his hands stuck inches away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck…” Nagito gasped, tears streaming down his face. “I-I’m so weak… I’m so weak I… how many times have I seen death? Killed people? Why does it… why does it feel so scary?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... we have to leave, the gunshot may have been heard,” Izuru said quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I can’t!” Nagito fell to his knees. “I can’t…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s hands moved now, he lifted Nagito to his feet and wrapped an arm around his middle to support him. He had him walk down the stairs with him to the front door, and the more Nagito trembled the worse Izuru felt for killing that man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Back at the hotel, Izuru took care of Nagito.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He made tea down in the lobby while Nagito showered, rinsed out his mouth, spent longer than needed staring into the bathroom mirror before wincing at his own reflection. Izuru found him there like that and guided him back to the main room, dressing him and making him sit on the bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pressed the tea into Nagito’s hands and sat next to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Nagito said, shaking his head. “I’m holding you back. I’m so weak…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Izuru said. “I think I was wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How? You did everything right! You always do, you're perfect! Literally perfect!" Nagito insisted, looking frantic, a hand tangling in his hair. "I fell apart at something the two of us have done a hundred times."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I killed a man, and I felt nothing.” Izuru started down at his hand. “Not even the satisfaction of revenge. I felt nothing. You were right to react as you did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>      "You… didn't feel better?" Nagito focused on that, and Izuru's eyes narrowed as the focus turned to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>        "..." Izuru didn't meet Nagito's gaze, until in perhaps the boldest move Izuru had ever seen Nagito make, he lifted Izuru's chin to look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>        "We have to try again," he said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>          "</span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> are not doing anything. </span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> am completing my list."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>           "So I am holding you back." Nagito's strange new confidence faded again, and Izuru felt little patience for the self loathing both of them seemed trapped in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>               "You're healing," Izuru said. "I'm holding you back from that. If we keep our relationship like this, you… following me around and dedicating yourself to helping me, you'll lose that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>       "What else do I do?" Nagito asked with an empty laugh. "I have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>be for something.</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>        "You don't," Izuru said sharply. "People can use you, you can dedicate yourself to people or ideals, but that doesn't make up your life. You can choose to leave that room at any point and-" he trailed off. He hadn't chosen to leave that room, not really. Junko Enoshima had guided him out of it and he'd worked for her. Now he was still focused on the people he claimed he didn't have any power over him anymore.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He flopped back onto the bed, startling Nagito a little, and stared up at the ceiling.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     "... what?" He murmured, realizing how lost he was. Was he no better than Nagito? Confused and stuck between his bloody past and his empty future? Worse, was he stuck between all that and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hajime's</span>
  </em>
  <span> past now too?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>        He felt a hand in his hair, and glanced over to see Nagito had started stroking it, carefully working out whatever tangles he came across. It felt nice, grounding, so Izuru closed his eyes and focused on that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>     He let Nagito do that until he started yawning, then he sat up and pushed Nagito back gently against the pillows, before leaving the bed. They were both too exhausted to go through the usual arguments about him taking some of the bedding or who slept on the floor, so Izuru was able to curl up in the corner without resistance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Izuru?” Nagito asked, rolling over and pulling the blankets closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did that guy say before you shot him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ghost.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a little dramatic, huh?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sleep.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>IMPORTANT: trigger warning for this chapter for mentions of animal abuse and death, it starts around the line "he bought me a dog" and ends at "Nomura was easy enough to track" and is vaguely referenced later at “And I wanted you to stay in the car!” Izuru shouted.</p>
<p>hey if you like the story so far what if you... left a comment or reblog on tumblr... haha, just kidding... unless?</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>As he drove, Izuru pondered how and even if he should find satisfaction in these killings.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He intended to go through with them no matter what. For now that was his purpose, but Nagito’s reaction and his lack of one had him lost in thought. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That man had been cruel to him, he’d killed him and felt nothing except remorse for causing Nagito to accept the changes to his mind over the course of his despair filled years. Maybe remorse was feeling enough, but so far all he had done with that remorse was a half-hearted attempt to stop Nagito from coming along on the next killing. So, ultimately it was pointless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me about this one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito frowned from the passenger’s seat, and looked back at the file. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Daiki Nomura, expert in behavioral psychology, I’m assuming he was a handler,” Nagito said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru remained quiet, taking the next turn and keeping his eyes on the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, he told you what to do. Got in your head. Tortured you?” Nagito kept guessing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He did many things,” Izuru said. “All of them designed to increase the effects of the procedure which cut me off from Hajime’s memories and personality, and to increase my obedience.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me more,” Nagito urged him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you want to know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just tell me,” Nagito insisted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt uncomfortable, an unfortunately common situation these days, one he blamed larger on the green eye staring back at him from the mirror. There was no true evidence to support that theory yet, but the fact that he was feeling emotions again, and most of them were negative irritated him. So he had decided to blame his other half. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He bought me a dog.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He… what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He made me raise a dog, a runt. I had to keep it alive, train it, show my talent with animals, leadership, psychology.” Izuru made a vague gesture with his fingers lifting from the wheel with restless energy. “Then, he told me to command the dog to stay still while I tortured and killed it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito’s eyes went wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... you are horrified by me,” Izuru assumed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Horrified. Not by you,” Nagito corrected him. “... are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru sighed and made another restless gesture. “... I liked the dog,” he said quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nomura was easy enough to track, he’d already accepted a job and therefore was on a record. Turns out, after a wave of cultists destroyed the world, there was a great deal of work for psychologists. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was neutral on the relative ease it took to find him and follow him home, but he was growing increasingly uncomfortable with Nagito’s behavior. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was restless, pushy, almost anxious. He kept a laser focus on Nomura’s care as they tailed him, until Izuru snapped at him to be less obvious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, when they were parking across the street, Nagito disobeyed him when he requested he remain in the car.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I’m coming in,” Nagito said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are behaving increasingly erratic, I don’t want your unpredictability as a factor here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Since when?” Nagito laughed. “Wouldn’t it be </span>
  <em>
    <span>boring</span>
  </em>
  <span> otherwise?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru ignored him, left the car and started walking to the house. Nagito tailed behind him, and even dared to step in front of him when they reached the door. Izuru gently pushed him aside so he could pick the lock, only to find himself behind Nagito once again as they entered.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru had reached the point that he was deciding to use physical restraint on him, something he hadn’t felt the need to do until now, when Nagito found their target. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me help,” he said to Izuru.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who are you pe-... Kamukura?” Nomura stumbled backwards, ran into the kitchen and struggled to grab a knife from the magnetic rack. Nagito was on him in a flash, displaying the kind of strength a sickly person like him could only acquire with the element of surprise and a complete disregard for his own body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito disarmed him, took the knife in his own hand as he caught Nomura’s arm and kept it against the floor. Then he lifted the knife and stabbed it down into Nomura’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s eyes widened.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you remember him?” Nagito asked, not bothering to wipe the slight blood splatter from his face. “That will make this easy. You know why we’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru could see Nagito’s shoulders shaking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito pushed the knife with a careful finger, wiggling it back and forth. “Do you feel despair? Like you made others feel?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru grabbed Nagito, swung him about and slammed him back against the wall. He ignored whatever Nagito was saying or doing, pushed his hair away from his eyes and stared into them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For one sickening moment he couldn’t recognize the look, and then finally Nagito’s eyes made themselves known to him. There was no despair, just hurt, rage, fear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Izuru asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“H-helping,” Nagito gasped. “You wanted to feel… you killed Voronin too quickly, didn’t make him suffer… I wanted to hel-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And I wanted you to stay in the car!” Izuru shouted, surprising even himself. Staring at Nagito like that, in his grasp and hurting, all he could see was that dog. That obedient, helpless, stupid, perfect dog. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru let Nagito go, he stepped hard on Nomura’s chest, hearing a crack from the force of it. He yanked the knife out of his hand and with an animalistic cry he plunged it down into his chest, over, and over, and over, and over.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt a hand on his cheek, and he flinched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh!” Nagito said with soft surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru took in his surroundings. He was sitting in an unfamiliar bathroom, Nagito in front of him with a washcloth that might have been white once, but was now covered in damp red. He supposed Nagito had been cleaning the blood off of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito’s gaze fell to the floor, guilt clearly weighing on his shoulders. “... how do you feel?” he asked quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stared down at his hands, they were red from being rubbed raw but clean of blood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Better,” he said, sounding surprised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I helped?” Nagito asked hopefully, like he needed that confirmation more than anything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You scared me,” Izuru hissed. “I thought… I’d broken you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito shrank in on himself, took an unsteady breath. Then he shrugged. “A little vain to assume you’re the defining factor on how broken I am,” he joked weakly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru just let his head fall forward onto Nagito’s shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I am… upset, that your actions helped me,” he said. “Because they also hurt you. Don’t do it again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. Okay. I’m sorry.” Nagito chewed at his lip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito’s eyes were once again hopeful and wide, so predictably enamored and seeking praise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru took a heavy breath. He was exhausted. “Can we leave now?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito nodded, and helped him to stand. This time he supported Izuru as they left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru remained sitting on the curb, with his head hung low, staring down at his hair pooling on the pavement.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard the ding of the convenience store’s bell as Nagito left, then the crinkling of a plastic bag being set down on the curb next to him. Then there were hands gathering up his hair, and soft tutting as Nagito worked his hair into a ponytail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve gotten it all dirty,” he said, as though Izuru’s clothes were not also stained with blood, the only thing hiding the stains his hunched posture. As though Izuru was to be scolded for his carelessness with his hair and not Nagito for his carelessness with their situation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now finished with Izuru’s hair, Nagito hummed to himself as he organized his purchases. Izuru felt something cold touch his cheek, and turned to see Nagito playfully offering him a canned drink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This was the important item you had to stop for?” Izuru asked, raising an eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This was a bonus,” Nagito said. “I stopped for this.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lifted Izuru’s hand, and smoothed a bandaid over a cut so minimal Izuru hadn’t even registered it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You injured yourself during your attack,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... this could not have waited?” Izuru asked. “Or simply been ignored?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were hurt,” Nagito sad.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I killed a man.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you cut yourself on the knife!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stared a moment, then he moved his hand to Nagito’s back and prodded at it with stiff fingers. Nagito was good at hiding things, but unable to hide the hiss of pain when Izuru’s fingers touched the bruises.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I injured you when I became emotional,” Izuru said. “We should return to the hotel, I can tend to you there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s not that imp-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If this,” Izuru lifted his hand. “Is important, that,” he pointed to Nagito’s back. “Is important. From now on. Understand?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... You want us to take care of each other?” Nagito guessed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru nodded.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito seemed to consider this, then he smirked. “And if I said I like the bruises?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I could always hit you again,” Izuru threatened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Nagito returned with supplies, he brought news with him as well.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They’ve started searching for us,” he sighed, as though he were bringing back news of rain on the day they were supposed to have a picnic. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How many?” Izuru was on the bed, working out the tangles in his hair with a strong brush and a dry shampoo that Nagito had bought for him once it became clear that washing his hair was only going to put him in a bad mood.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“All over the place, I’m surprised I made it back,” Nagito said. “I was lucky.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Next time you won’t be,” Izuru mused. “We should leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We haven’t figured out where your next target is yet,” Nagito pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We won’t have the freedom to continue locating my targets if we are captured.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Nagito shrugged. “Then where do we go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Away,” Izuru said obviously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The streets were indeed full, which made sense. Izuru was not vain, he simply knew how dangerous he was. It made sense that they would send a great number of people. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The car was parked in the only lot not full of other abandoned vehicles. He could just take another car, but it would take less time to sneak past the patrols to the car he knew was functional then it would to find a car not stripped to scrap by the pink haired one and his cronies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stay close,” he ordered, moving a step in front of Nagito and throwing his senses out to map out the people around him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Nervous breathing from the man on the bench, he’s not actually reading his newspaper: avoid.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Footsteps approaching behind me, uniform- one, two, one two: avoid.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Children’s voices, one adult, alone-chaos: hide.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dragged Nagito towards the woman leading a gaggle of screaming and laughing children, they slipped into the crowd and followed them past the agent on the bench, and allowed the ones marching behind them to pass. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru pulled Nagito away from that group to cross the street, ducking quickly into a shop and waving when the shopkeep greeted them to avoid suspicion. He watched through the window as another agent walked by, distracted by a phone call. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito didn’t question it as Izuru pulled them further into the store, he hadn’t questioned any move they made so far and he wouldn’t question any made later. It was clear he trusted in Izuru’s talent. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru found the back entrance, past the curtain that separated the stockroom from the rest of the store. It opened out to a back road, and Izuru checked the area again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was then they had the unfortunate luck for a group of motorcycles to come tearing down the street at the front of the shop. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hn…” Izuru flinched at the assault of sound, covering his ears. Then he felt Nagito pulling on him, and allowed himself to be dragged away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the sound of the engines faded he could hear the agents that Nagito had pulled them away from as they chatted mindlessly. He nodded at Nagito, who seemed to glow from the silent praise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Of course, Nagito was helpful but he was not perfect, and he’d chosen a spot that would be in view once the agents turned around to return to the main street, which they appeared to be doing now. Having few options beyond running and drawing attention, Izuru had to improvise.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He grabbed Nagito and pushed him gently against the wall. He kissed him, counting on their faces being hidden and the natural human reaction to look away from public displays of affection to keep them from being noticed as the agents passed by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He listened to their footsteps: </span>
  <em>
    <span>one, two, one two, one…</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He lost count.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t hear the footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was warm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito’s lips were softer than they looked, and one of them was caught between Izuru’s lips, it made his heart pound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The footsteps.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could hear them in the distance: </span>
  <em>
    <span>one, two, one, two, one, two.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were out of danger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru pulled away, his mind restarting. He looked to Nagito, expecting to see some awestruck or self-loathing face, and instead saw Nagito’s hands reaching for his jacket to pull him back in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt Nagito’s lips on his again, Nagito’s tongue sliding into his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt the wall against his back, and hands, there seemed to be hands everywhere: in his hair, on his waist, cupping his cheek, holding him in place by his jacket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nn…” he made a small lost sound muffled by the kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shh…” Nagito pulled away, held Izuru’s chin in his hand and ran a thumb over his lips. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Am I… okay?” Izuru echoed dumbly</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, Izuru, are you okay?” Nagito chuckled. “Is it okay that I’m kissing you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru kept trying to meet Nagito’s gaze, but his eyes kept falling back to his lips, it made Nagito giggle. Instead of answering him, Izuru moved forward and kissed him again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Waste of time…</span>
  </em>
  <span> his mind said dully, buried under the need to pursue this thing that made him… </span>
  <em>
    <span>feel.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have to go,” he murmured against Nagito’s lips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They made it to the car, and once they were there they drove off without acknowledging the thing that had just occurred between them. Izuru wondered if he should mention it, ask about it, or just let it fade into the past. If he did that, would he regret its loss?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to focus on driving.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru woke up in bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was curled around him, his sleeping breath quiet and steady. Izuru remembered the night prior Nagito had insisted on making bed a place of comfort for him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d found an empty house, and once Izuru had checked the mattresses and found them free of bugs he allowed Nagito to lay down. Nagito, however, seemed unsatisfied to see Izuru settling himself in the corner.</span>
</p>
<p> <span>He’d forced him into pajamas, an act which was only as forced as Izuru allowed it to be really, and then down under the covers. Nagito curled up with him tangling their legs together and pressing soft kisses to his forehead and cheeks. Izuru hadn’t intended on getting any sleep, but here he was waking up with Nagito’s body heat warming him.</span></p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru slipped out of bed quietly, not wanting to wake him. He dressed, and tied his hair up to deal with later. He wanted to get food, something he hadn’t really wanted in awhile. Food was just to keep him alive, but he found himself with an actual craving this morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not to mention, Nagito would be hungry too. This was suddenly important to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closed the front door quietly as he left to find a store, feeling puzzled at how his brain refused to let go of the idea that Nagito might wake to find him gone and be sad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>By the time Nagito was sitting up and yawning, Izuru was placing a plate on the nightstand and pushing a mug into his hands. Nagito blinked in sleepy surprise, then looked up at Izuru. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... do I get to look forward to this every morning?” he chuckled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Izuru said sharply.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, so only the mornings after I cuddle you?” Nagito teased.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru didn’t dignify that with a response. He just moved to the desk by the room’s window, where he’d placed his own breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito watched him eat before he touched his own food. Izuru didn’t understand why, but he’d done his part in providing food, it was up to Nagito to actually eat it. He was more concerned with filling his own stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you feeling?” Nagito asked, shifting slightly under the blankets. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru didn’t answer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not feeling?” Nagito chuckled. “But you look kinda happy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t…” Izuru began to argue and then just shook his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay to be happy,” Nagito said. “I know you’re used to being bored all the time, it’s what you’re used to. Easier to be sad or angry when you’re always bored, but it’s okay if you’re happy too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru pointedly ignored him, drowning his pancakes in more syrup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or… are you afraid it’s going to stop? That you’ll get bored of being happy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s fork fumbled and clattered noisily against the plate, making him twitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Isn’t it better to enjoy the good thing and mourn it’s loss later, rather than spend all your time getting ready for the loss and not enjoying the good thing when you have it?” Nagito asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru took a deep breath through his nose and closed his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it really me that’s happy?” he asked, opening his eyes again-red and green side by side. “Or am I just… fading?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you feel like you’re fading?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t know what it feels like, only he would.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, it probably wouldn’t feel like happiness,” Nagito chuckled. “And if it did, then I guess it’s nothing to worry about, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only you would consider the loss of your identity nothing to worry about,” Izuru remarked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eh, you do it so many times, it just sort of becomes normal,” Nagito said, with a shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... didn’t it feel bad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And the other times?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got used to where I was,” Nagito said. “No matter how bad, there was always something in my identity I could feel at home with.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t really know who I am, besides someone who can do things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito had to be thrilled to bring talent back into the conversation. “Then keep that close. No matter who Izuru Kamukura is, he’s the man who can do things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Nagito Komaeda is the man who does not stop talking, even after I put in the effort to make him breakfast.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoops!” Nagito laughed, grabbing his plate.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Nagito had been uncharacteristically quiet as they drove. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They still didn’t have a destination in mind, they just had to keep moving, staying one step ahead of their pursuers. So they drove aimlessly in whatever direction seemed right, spending the night wherever they could, which in this area meant more and more often sleeping in the car or in some abandoned home still filled with the remnants of the people who lived there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru wondered if these poor sleeping arrangements had something to do with how quiet Nagito had been recently. He was used to beds, at least he was more used to them than Izuru was.  Was he having trouble sleeping?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was pondering this when they turned the corner, and he saw something that surprised him with a sharp pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ghk!” Nagito nearly jumped out of his skin as Izuru hit the brakes, locking his seatbelt. “What the h… Izuru?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru turned the car around, and parked on the side of the road. It was not lost on him he was behaving irrationally, as irrationally as Nagito had when he’d seen the agricultural research facility. He was just focused on something else at the moment and couldn’t be bothered to assess his own behavior. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaned over the steering wheel, staring dead ahead of him. Nagito had to follow his line of sight for answers, because he wasn’t saying anything.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... the playground?” he asked, brow furrowing. “... Izuru, why are we here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru left the car and Nagito followed him as he always did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito shivered, wrapping his arms around himself as he walked through the tall grass with Izuru to the chain link fence surrounding a schoolyard. It looked like the school had long been closed, but there were kids of all ages making use of the playground, from toddling three year olds giggling as they threw woodchips at each other to teenagers taking selfies on the monkeybars and daring each other to hang upside down.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru wrapped his fingers in the fence, still staring, and Nagito leaned on the fence and looked at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s eyes were narrowing, he had this look on his face like he was trying to puzzle something out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... I think… I think Hajime liked the monkey bars,” he said after awhile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... oh?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“His memories are almost impossible to reach, the only ones I have come from the Neo World Program,” Izuru said. “I’m not supposed to be able to access them. They’re not mine so it doesn’t bother me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Um… it kinda looks like it… </span>
  <em>
    <span>does</span>
  </em>
  <span> bother you, though,” Nagito pointed out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hajime’s memories do not bother me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito worked out that sentence, looking for what was omitted to find what Izuru was trying to admit without admitting. “So your memories? Is it cause you never got to do this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know what being a child is like,” Izuru confirmed. “I’d never thought about it before, I don’t know why this…” he gestured at the playground and shrugged, leaving it there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, come on,” Nagito put a hand on his arm. “We can’t stand here like this watching them, someone will call the cops. Come back to the car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru reluctantly followed, because he was right. This was a pointless thing to risk their freedom on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t drive much farther after that, the sun went down and Nagito seemed tired so Izuru didn’t want to push them to travel any further than they had to. He savored this new feeling of concern for his traveling companion, it was something he had been feeling strongly lately though he hadn’t known it. It was difficult if not impossible to label those few emotions he felt, so knowing what this was gave him extreme satisfaction. It also gave him tasks, small things to perform throughout the day to ensure Nagito’s comfort. Things like stopping at a motel, though it would have been more efficient and safer to simply keep driving or sleep in the car in a less populated area. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito lay down almost as soon as they got there, confirming Izuru’s suspicions that something was wrong, causing him fatigue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nagito…” he approached slowly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito sat up and stretched, putting an easy smile on his face. “Hey, go change into something you can move around in, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... I have been moving all day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Something you don’t mind getting dirty, playclothes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Playclothes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah. The sun’s down, all the kids and their families will be gone, we should go back to that playground,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt his heart flutter, he wanted this. He didn’t see the point, but he always did what he wanted so long as there was no superior option. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hurried Nagito back to the car, and noticed Nagito laughing at his sudden burst of energy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito headed for the driver’s side and Izuru put a hand on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let me drive this time,” Nagito said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dangerous,” Izuru warned. “Your luck.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, trust me, it’ll be fine this time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru should have seen that as a warning and a clear red flag, but he was focused on the sensation that had appeared in his chest when Nagito suggested they go back. He simply nodded and handed Nagito the keys.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So many lights in the world had gone out during the Tragedy, and only so many had turned back on as the world healed. Izuru knew this lack of light meant a lack of life, and therefore should not be admired. Yet, he acknowledged the aesthetic reward of a sky full of stars. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, your purpose here is to skin as many knees as possible, get your clothes dirty, and have fun,” Nagito said with a grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I only have two knees.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So try to land on both of them when you fall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t fall.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Izuru, the more you talk the less time you have to play,” Nagito pointed out, taking a seat on a nearby bench and wrapping his coat more tightly around himself. Izuru nodded at this flawless logic, and turned his attention to the playground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It made no sense. These were physical tasks he had performed several times before. Once again he performed them flawlessly, effortlessly, adding more to the action than he needed to. However, he found a certain preference growing for performing these tasks here rather than other places.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He started moving quicker, focusing less on the movements and more on the results they brought. Adrenaline, endorphins, his heart rate rising-which so rarely happened for reasons of physical exertion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His movements stopped being precise, stopped being perfect. He tripped over his own foot, decided not to catch himself and fell to the ground with a smile spreading across his face at the delight of failing to simply </span>
  <em>
    <span>run</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Running was simple, and he’d done it wrong!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leapt up to grab at the monkey bars, swinging up so he could hang upside down and look over at Nagito, who was laughing with equal delight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt happy, he recognized it and he let himself feel it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But like most good things in his life, it was short lived.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito’s laughter faltered a bit, as he put a hand to his head like he was dizzy. Izuru felt every trace of emotion leave his body all at once as Nagito collapsed into the grass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He fell more than he climbed down, a clumsy movement he couldn’t even take pleasure in. He rushed to Nagito’s side and pulled him into his lap to check him for injuries. The cause was clear once he touched him, he was burning up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... you concealed this from me,” Izuru realized. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito didn’t answer, it looked like it was hard enough for him to even stay conscious. Izuru lifted him up and carried him quickly back to the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His heart was steady again as he drove them back to the motel. He had a task: Nagito was ill, he had to care for him. He saw the map of actions in his mind again, like he always did every moment of his life for things as simple as brushing his teeth, that map of actions that had vanished so selfishly for a moment as he </span>
  <em>
    <span>played</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Nagito was in bed Izuru left to find medicine. He ended up breaking into a pharmacy, noting how Nagito’s absence changed his experiences of the world already. He had no money and no qualms about taking whatever he needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take this,” he ordered, pressing a pill into Nagito’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito needed help sitting up, and Izuru watched him carefully to make sure he was able to swallow the pill. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You hid this,” Izuru accused blankly, apathetic. Nagito found the question the statement hid: why?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s unimportant,” Nagito said. “I get sick often, all of my time is borrowed. It looked like we’d found a chance for you to have fun, and I didn’t want to get in the way… and, I worried…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Worried?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That if not now, if we hadn’t gone tonight, there might be a chance of me dying without ever seeing you smile,” Nagito said, smiling softly himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... idiotic,” Izuru muttered, turning and leaving the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito didn’t hold it against him, he just kept smiling sadly and then lay back down. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru sat on the curb, staring up at the sky and thinking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn’t pondering anything, just following the preset maps in his head to their obvious conclusions. He pressed his fingers into a bruise he’d acquired from his fall and closed his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He heard something, the sound of one of the doors opening. He retreated to the shadows and watched as a woman walked out from one of the rooms.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drive safe, okay?” said a voice from inside the room, and she nodded, leaning in and kissing whoever was on the other side of the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stared.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was one of his targets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dr. Aiko Takenake, thirty-four, unmarried, apparently having some sort of affair regardless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>One of his daily torturers. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Izuru, you need to follow the light with your eyes.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He stared over towards the glass window where a dozen strangers watched his morning routine. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Izuru, the light.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>While he couldn’t bring himself to be interested in what they were saying or thinking, Outside was more interesting than Inside. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She took ahold of his chin and tried to turn his face, it was simple enough to lock himself in place. Though he was skilled, it was early days yet, so he had much to learn about the predictable nature of the world around him. For example, he could not have predicted that the doctor would be embarrassed and frustrated by his non-cooperation, that she would cover her lack of control by slapping him to startle him out of his thoughts so she could pull his head back by his hair and make him look into the light. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You’re impossible,” she huffed. “I can’t wait till I’m done with you.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru took a step forward. He could kill her right now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as always, he followed the map to the inevitable conclusions. A murder would draw attention, a missing woman would draw attention even if he was able to cover up the murder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Nagito was in no shape to flee. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched as she got into her car, memorized the plate, then watched her pull out of the parking lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her home. If he killed her there that’s where the investigation would be conducted, giving them more time. Still… would it be enough time for Nagito to recover?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“One day…” he promised. He would give it one day, he was incapable of waiting any longer than that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For now he followed her car, memorizing the way to her home. He wasn’t expecting it to look the way it did, flowers in the garden and a lawn in need of mowing. It looked lived in, it looked welcoming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You have to stop behaving like this,” she sighed, gathering up his smuggled items and tossing them into the garbage bag. “You’re not supposed to behave like this, you’re not a person you’re a… you’re a symbol. A product. And I went to school way too long to be cleaning up after you like some maid.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He sat on his bed and watched her, which seemed to irritate her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stop looking at me,” she ordered. “God…” she shook her head. “You are draining my life away.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru returned to the motel and found Nagito asleep. The light was still on, Nagito wouldn’t have been able to reach the switch without leaving bed. He should have turned it off when he left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turned it off now, and went to the corner of the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sat, and he did not sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Nagito.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stood over his sleeping form, the food he’d retrieved sitting on the nightstand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nagito, wake up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He felt something unpleasant in his chest, and he vented it by shaking Nagito awake. Nagito made a sound of distress, his eyes opening and looking glassy with fever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That made the unpleasant sensation worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have to wake when I tell you to, and eat when I tell you to, or you won’t recover,” he said tersely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nn…” Nagito rubbed at his eyes and tried to sit up, failing several times before managing. “Sorry, Izuru…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your body is weak, and you don’t care for it properly,” Izuru continued, handing Nagito the plate. Nagito’s grasp was weak, his hands shook. He stared down at his breakfast, looking as though he would rather just go back to sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t,” Izuru said, answering his thoughts. “It’s not time for you to sleep, it’s time for you to eat and then take the next dose of your medication.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Izuru… what’s wrong?” Nagito asked. “This isn’t like you…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru huffed, clutching at his chest like he could pull the prickly heavy thing out. This was the only way he knew how to do it. The routine, the orders, the stern belief that empathy would sully the primary goal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eat,” he said simply, deciding now was a good time for him to measure out the doses for the rest of the day. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he worked he noticed that Nagito had taken two bites of toast and then set the whole plate aside. He watched Nagito curl up again, pulling the blankets up to his ears and struggling to breathe clearly. His slight wheezing was all Izuru could hear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Get up.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He ignored her.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“For the love of God…” she grabbed the blanket and threw it off him. That was the last time he had a blanket in this room, it was later deemed unnecessary both by his handlers and himself. “Get up. You’re sleeping through my shift and I have to get these tests done.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“... hurts,” he croaked, his throat aching at the single word.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“It all hurts.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“...” she walked over and felt his forehead. “... shit. Shit! This is going to set us back days… we can’t do the next procedure if… fuck.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She practically ran from the room, needing to inform the higher ups that their lab rat’s immune system needed to be made perfect before they carried on perfecting the rest of him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Izuru shuddered, and curled in on himself.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru sat down on the edge of the bed, facing away from Nagito. He reached back slightly, slowly stroking Nagito’s hair. He pushed sweat slicked strands from his forehead, and marveled that even after he’d snapped at and pushed Nagito, Nagito chased after the gesture. He whined quietly and pressed his head against Izuru’s hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Izuru said quietly. “It hurts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was only getting worse, but so was Izuru.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t keep caring for Nagito with this particular shadow hanging over him. Takenake had to die.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He entered her house through a window she’d left open a crack, crawling onto the kitchen counter and then landing silently on the floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a light on in the living room. He stepped carefully into the darkest parts, finding her quickly. She was picking something up from the floor, her back to him. He could have killed her then but…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>… she hated cleaning, what was she doing?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Takenake turned around, quickly as though she’d sensed him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Kamukura,” she said softly. “I thought… I might be next.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You heard?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Two remnants of despair, escaped and on a killing spree?” she laughed. “Yeah, well, they’re keeping it out of the news but those of us that know…” she shook her head. “I can be ready in just a minute… I just have to put Hayato to bed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hayato?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“My son,” she said. “If you could kill me somewhere he won’t find me… I’d be grateful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stared, and then he walked over to the couch and collapsed onto it.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She looked at him, the stubborn acceptance of fear fading to curiosity. Then she finished gathering up the stuffed animals she’d been picking up and left the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru heard a pair of soft voices, one clearly young. He followed them to the bedroom where Takenake was kneeling by the bed of a young boy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru never forgot a face, he’d seen this boy at the playground. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mommy, I think I’m sick again,” the boy said, moving his limbs in the unpracticed way young children often do, rubbing at his eyes with loose fists.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah?” she asked. “Let me check…” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru watched as she pretended to take his vitals, pressing an ear to his chest as he giggled, then feeling his forehead, checking his pulse, looking into his eyes and ears. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nope! One hundred percent healthy,” she said, tickling him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The boy erupted into giggles and Izuru felt sick. He stumbled back out to the living room.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t long before Takenake joined him again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you’re pretty angry,” she said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t feel anger.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then why go around killing people? What’s the point, Izuru?” she asked, sounding like she was scolding him. “I’m going to make some tea. Do you want some?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Minutes later he had a mug warming his hands, and his target sitting next to him on the couch with her feet up on the coffee table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know, I don’t seem the motherly sort, and I’m not,” she chuckled. “He was an accident, but I ended up keeping him. He’s a good kid, and I’m not really a mom but I can keep him fed and clean and giggling, so.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are not even a good doctor,” Izuru said. “You are not, and will not be a good parent.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cheers to that.” she raised her mug. “But I’m doing it anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You will ruin him,” Izuru said, ice in his veins. “He will think of you and he will be afraid and angry, and he will see the bad things you did whenever he closes his eyes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugged, going quiet. “Yeah. You’re probably right. You’d know. Why else would you be killing us all?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t drink his tea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look, I know you can kill me if you want to,” she said. “But I would prefer not to die. Maybe we could come to some sort of understanding? I don’t know how many people you were able to track down but I keep in touch with a lot of people from the Kamukura project. I could give you their locations.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru took a sharp breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment he indulged in this idea, in a bloodsoaked journey where he cut each one of those memories out of his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he petulantly dropped his mug, spilling tea all over the carpet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... what?” she asked in annoyed disbelief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not going to kill you,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just ruin my carpet?” she asked, irritated. How was she irritated when she just heard her life was going to be spared?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe.” he kicked the shards of mug idly. “I’m not going to kill you, you make me angry. You’re going to stay, and anytime I need to be angry, I can come here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... hang on, what?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re harmless, and yet you always scared me. Now you can inspire me to a new emotion. That’s useful, it makes life less dull to know that you can still be out here making me </span>
  <em>
    <span>furious</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He shrugged. “And I won’t hurt your child by robbing him of his mother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She did look relieved at that at least.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But,” he continued. “You’ve already robbed yourself of him, because he will find out who you are.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not going anywhere near him,” she hissed. “You don’t get to tell him anything, you don’t get to fill his head with your… inhuman bullshit!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He took a deep breath, feeling as though he was breathing in the anger of her words and feeling it burn in his stomach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... it would be interesting to see you try to stop me.” He started walking towards the door. “Enjoy your humanity.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru wished he could talk to Hajime. Clarify who these emotions belonged to. He wondered if in another timeline it was the other way around, Hajime wandering the world in overwhelming boredom.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walked back, kicking every stray pebble he came across and sulking. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here. Maybe it would have been better to find a place on the island to simply sit until he died. He would have understood that better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The motel was in sight when he knew something was wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ran, opening the door and immediately charging into the Future Foundation agent waiting on the other side. He turned to kick the legs out from another, and avoided the grasp of one more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop fighting him, idiots,” one of them shouted. “You can’t beat Izuru Kamukura.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru’s eyes drifted over towards the voice, and he took in the situation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a woman, the person in charge here no doubt. She was sitting on the bed with Nagito barely conscious under her arm. She had a gun pressed to his temple.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you’re probably fast enough to stop me…” she said. “But do you really want to test it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... go ahead,” Izuru said. “He’d want you to, if it meant I got away.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what he wants, sure, but I’m not hearing anything about what you want or what you’re going to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stood there, staring at her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he lunged, trusting in two things:</span>
</p>
<ol>
<li><span>His talent</span></li>
<li><span>That Makoto Naegi had sent these people, and therefore they weren’t the kind of people to kill needlessly</span></li>
</ol>
<p>
  <span>Just as he got his hands on the gun, she’d tried to turn it towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It had gone off before he’d disarmed her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shit…” she sighed as one of the targets hit the floor, gasping and bleeding. “Get him in the fucking van, now!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru was restrained to an extreme: limbs in heavy duty restraints, face behind a guard, weights tied around him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was tossed into the van as he was, in no shape to fight back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru stared over at him, a fuzzy memory in his mind of trying that move with the gun once before. Nagito’s grip had been far looser than this woman’s, and his luck had interfered just like it no doubt had interfered this time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tried to move closer to him, and immediately a hand grabbed him and yanked him back to the other side of the van’s floor. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This unfortunate twist was not without its silver lining. Izuru had just learned that he didn’t need Takenake in order to feel anger, because right now he was angry at </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey I'm back a million years later with your favorite sadly Americanized road trip story about two Japanese characters, and I even started with the best possible first line, you're welcome<br/>... seriously though sorry about the wait and thank you if you hung in there waiting for this chapter, I hope to finish this story soon. I've got my antidepressants and therapy figured out and while things suck I'm managing to rest more and have more spoons for writing. <br/>Hope you enjoy the update! Leave a comment if you enjoyed!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Izuru liked boats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the way to the island he’d discovered that the swaying of the ocean often had the ability to surprise him. Not often enough, but sometimes. He liked the sensation of movement he had no control over, one gentle enough to lull him into a trance.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This van was not like a boat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The vehicle bounced once again as they hit another pothole, and Izuru was at least able to enjoy the sensation of pain as it aggravated his new bullet wound, if nothing else. The rest of the sensations were just irritating. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was laying on the floor, armed guards sitting on the benches installed on either side of him. Nagito was inches away, behind him. He could hear his breathing: soft, somewhat labored, and could see his reflection in the helmet of one of the guards. He could see the guns aimed directly at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If they were taken in, they would be imprisoned before given medical treatment, and Nagito would die.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If he tried to attack the guards, they would shoot Nagito and he would die.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a third option. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should let me go,” he said, picking a guard out from the ones in his view and staring him down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The guard ignored him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It would be better for you to let me go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Shut up…” the guard muttered, getting an elbow from the guard sitting next to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t talk to him,” they warned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. Don’t talk to me. Your mind is simple enough that even my words could control it,” Izuru said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just pretend he isn’t there,” the scolding guard said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you know…? I have a photographic memory,” Izuru continued in a soft, calm voice. “I remember you. Why are you here? Did you switch sides?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” the guard asked in shock and confusion, as his friends started to look at him with suspicion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You set buildings on fire, and riled up the crowd,” Izuru said. “When you were on the side of despair, I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s lying!” the guard said, still confused and growing more scared of the way his friends were looking at him. “Shut up!” He tried to hit Izuru with the butt of his rifle, which was exactly what Izuru had wanted him to do.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru moved like lightning, trapping the rifle between his legs and then rolling onto his back. He had one shot, but luckily he was perfect. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tossed the rifle, sending it flying up towards the driver’s seat where it lodged itself between the spokes on the steering wheel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck! What the h-” was as far as the driver got, because without control of the vehicle for that one second moving this fast: the van flipped. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They rolled three times before landing on the roof. Izuru managed to maneuver the chains of his cuffs over Nagito’s head so he could pull him to his chest and keep him from breaking anything essential during the crash. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the dust had cleared he knew he had </span>
  <em>
    <span>seconds</span>
  </em>
  <span> to act. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He found the key to his handcuffs on a guard’s belt and got himself free, grabbing Nagito and pulling him out of the van.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was saying something, but his voice was too weak to be heard over the movement as Izuru tossed him over his shoulder and started running. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His body naturally used a form meant for speed at first, then distance once he could no longer hear gunfire behind them. His body also shut off the pain signals his injuries were trying to send, making it easier to keep moving. If an injury wasn’t fatal then there was no need to bring attention to it, and he had no fatal injuries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d rolled off the road and into the trees, which definitely aided in their escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually Izuru skidded to a stop, looking unfazed by the exertion of running while carrying someone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He set Nagito down, leaning him against the trunk of a tree, and started checking him for injuries. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“J… just go…” Nagito kept repeating. “Slow y… you down.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, you will,” Izuru agreed as he stayed anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You're bleeding…" Nagito reached out with a trembling hand, his fingers falling just under the gunshot wound in Izuru's shoulder, before raising up to trace the abrasion on his forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Stop doing that," Izuru said, finding Nagito somehow, luckily, largely unharmed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Where would y'be without me…?"  Nagito mumbled feverishly, and then: "leave me… slow you down…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It troubled Izuru, this back and forth Nagito was having with himself. It was  because it troubled him that he held Nagito's head gently between his hands and pressed a kiss to his forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe it was the relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Relief… he'd never felt that one before. It made all his limbs weak, though maybe that was the blood loss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hefted Nagito up onto his back and started walking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hold still," Nagito scolded, pressing fresh gauze over the wound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru frowned and raised his hand to scratch at the area anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito slapped his hand away, which amused Izuru.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You'll get it infected," he said, needlessly, to the ultimate doctor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It itches."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So show some self control," Nagito said cheerily as he finished bandaging the wound.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was starting to look healthier. The color was back in his cheeks and his eyes were focused once more… or as focused as they ever looked considering the restless brain sitting behind them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru considered his recovery a good thing, but also an annoying one, as once Nagito was no longer too sick to stand he was healthy enough to baby Izuru.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were sitting in the bathroom of the one kind of hotel guaranteed to be ultra discreet about the identity of its patrons.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yes. That kind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito had taken to calling it their "love nest" which had never and would never get a laugh from Izuru.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once Izuru had been tended to, they moved to the main room with the heart shaped bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito perched elegantly on the edge of the bed, as though somehow unintentionally making a decoration of himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru, on the other hand, flopped down face first into bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm… is that really the best way to lay?" Nagito joked. "I mean, I'm sure they change the sheets but…"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm tired. Please be quiet."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I will but, before I do that, can I ask what the plan is?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru lifted his head. "What plan?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"To kill the last person on your list? Escape from our pursuers? And also the "whatever comes next" that you said you'd find after your revenge." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We're not doing that anymore."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru lay back down again, fatigue weighing heavily on him. "There's no more plan. Just sleep."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was silent a moment, and then Izuru felt the bed shift as Nagito got up. He also heard a bag unzipping and clothes moving around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you doing?" Izuru mumbled against the mattress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Getting us ready to leave."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I told you. We-"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Exactly." Nagito kept packing. "When this all started you made it very clear that you were the one doing everything, that I was tagging along, that I should stay in the car, that I wasn't a part of it. Now you're saying we, which means I get a say, and I say we have one more person to kill."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Why do you want me to kill him?" Izuru sighed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I think some closure would do you some good," Nagito replied casually. "Just look him in the eyes at least."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't care about that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito frowned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then he moved back over to the bed and sat down with his legs criss cross.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He poked at Izuru until he rolled onto his back, and then he guided his head into his lap and started playing with his hair.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You aren't Hajime, and you aren't quite </span>
  <em>
    <span>Kamukura </span>
  </em>
  <span>either," he said. "You're Izuru. You're you. And giving up is not like you. What changed?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru thought about Takenake's offer, all the others he could kill. He thought about Takenake's son, about Nagito lying sick in bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I did," he answered softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"And that's all this is?" Nagito asked, his doubts almost perfectly masked by his tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I didn't say that."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Then tell me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru frowned and sat up. Nagito watched him with attentive eyes as Izuru turned to face him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru moved his hand to the back of Nagito's head, his fingers tangling in the cobwebs of his hair. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito had never seen this look in Izuru's eyes before. Like grief and joy had mingled into some bittersweet approximation of… fondness. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was not surprised when he felt Izuru's lips brush against his, and Izuru was not surprised when he felt Nagito kissing back as he gently pushed Izuru back down against the pillows.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The only sounds in the room were their lips meeting and the gentle shuffling of fabric as clothes were discarded and sheets wrinkled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru had no experience in this area, and he'd enjoyed it the first time they kissed when Nagito demanded more, so he let him lead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was gentle with his demands, taking care not to aggravate Izuru's injury, occasionally pressing a soft kiss to it as he admired the features of the man beneath him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Those mismatched eyes staring up at him, with the kind of trust he knew he'd earned, not the kind Izuru held for everyone else who he considered </span>
  <em>
    <span>predictable.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito trailed a hand down his broad chest to his subtly muscled stomach. Then his fingers found the dark feathery curls of hair below that, and he paused to admire them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Please, kiss me again?" Izuru requested, so Nagito smiled and did just that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He unraveled Izuru with careful hands, watching with honored delight as his lost god started to whimper and sought to hide his face in the crook of Nagito's neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"But I want to look at you," Nagito whispered, and Izuru pulled back and pressed their foreheads together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito gave Izuru what he needed, then took care of himself, proud at how Izuru's eyes never left him all the while. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He cleaned them up, tucked Izuru in, and cuddled up to him under the blankets.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"So you love me," he whispered, kissing Izuru's cheek.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru just stared at him with those complicated eyes, and then held him a little tighter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru woke up in the passenger seat, wondering when he’d let himself fall asleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was driving, humming softly to himself and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel, apparently to the beat of the soft song playing on the radio. Izuru could tell though that he was off beat, and off pitch. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he was nice to listen to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d left the hotel that morning after some… adjustments. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t have to do this you know,” Nagito said softly, touching Izuru’s shoulder reassuringly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We need to be less recognizable…” Izuru said, staring down the scissors like they were an enemy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito was sitting on the edge of the tub, his hair full of dye and a frown on his face as he watched Izuru battle with the logical conclusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru held his hair at his shoulders, and started cutting. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The dye hadn’t fully taken in Nagito’s hair, his roots were left white and the rest was a sort of tan, giving him a toasted marshmallow look, and Izuru had shoulder length hair under a baseball cap. He didn’t really like changing his hair, but he had to admit his neck felt much better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Feeling better after your nap?” Nagito asked with a smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m hungry,” Izuru replied. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No need to pout, I’ll find us somewhere to eat,” Nagito chuckled. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru leaned over in his seat to rest his head on Nagito’s shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that they didn’t know where they were going, things seemed more… relaxed? If that was the right word. It felt like things were moving slowly in a way that didn’t feel boring. It felt restful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really like sugar, huh?” Nagito chuckled as Izuru drowned his pancakes in syrup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Izuru replied, taking an overly sweet bite. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. Whatever you say.” Nagito grinned. “Then, what about caffeine?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No.” Izuru held out his mug for another refill as their waitress passed by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re allowed to like things, you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. I can do whatever I want.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Izuru ate he noticed Nagito scrolling through their phone. He wondered what he was looking at. If he really wanted to know, he could always figure it out…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He ignored it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And soon, they were back on the road. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sky started to darken with rain clouds as they drove, and Izuru found himself glancing over to Nagito. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where are you taking us?” he asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Away from where we were caught, remember?” Nagito said calmly. “You said we had to get as far as possible.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you don’t have a plan?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not. That’s your role, right? I’ll wait for your instructions.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru felt unease growing inside him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When the car stopped they weren’t at any hotel, store, or restaurant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito pulled them up to the curb and stopped the car, looking out the window with a strange sort of apprehension. Then he checked the phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nagito.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why did you bring me here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I brought </span>
  <em>
    <span>us</span>
  </em>
  <span> here, don’t worry.” Nagito reached over to lay a hand over Izuru’s. “I’m going in there with you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I told you I was done with this.” Izuru pulled his hand away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You didn’t argue when I said you needed closure,” Nagito pointed out. “There’s one left, and until their shadows are out of your mind I worry that you’ll-”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never be able to shine with hope?” Izuru guessed, voice bitter.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Recover,” Nagito insisted. “We started this hunt, and it made you feel things, if we don’t finish it you might never gain control of that!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Start the car.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito frowned at him, looking expectant, like he was waiting for Izuru to do something. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Start the car,” Izuru said again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why aren’t you starting it yourself? You could if you really didn’t want to be here,” Nagito pointed out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Izuru turned away, glaring out the window. “... fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He opened the glove compartment forcefully, retrieving the gun and making sure it was loaded. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just this morning he’d discovered restfulness, contentedness, and now his insides felt like swirling thorns. The man sitting next to him had helped him see so much, and then obscured his vision to lie to him because he thought he knew what was best. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was the difference between this and what he’d been made for? Did he really hand Nagito his own strings and make a puppet of himself?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was being dramatic. He didn’t know he had the capacity to be dramatic. He just kept thinking about how Nagito had felt in his arms last night as they fell asleep. They’d fit together like puzzles pieces, and now…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nagito reached for Izuru as he left the car, but Izuru kept just out of reach.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope you don’t regret this,” he said quietly, looking at Nagito over hunched shoulders as the sky opened up and it started to rain.</span>
</p>
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